


Parties Aren't For Everyone

by words_savedme



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Mali Hood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_savedme/pseuds/words_savedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've never liked parties and no one knows why. Maybe telling someone can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parties Aren't For Everyone

You don’t like parties, and Calum knows this. He also knows that you’ve never been to one before, despite having hundreds of invitations thrown in the trash can. When an old high school friend invites him and the rest of the band, and whoever else he wants because he’s Calum Hood, famous bassist, he decides to bother you about it.  
Calum is determined to get you to leave the house this Friday night and have a little fun. What he doesn’t know is that you have reasons for not going to parties besides the obvious: I don’t drink, and I don’t know anyone. You have reasons that you don’t feel comfortable sharing.  
When he barges into your room, heading straight for your bed and in skinny jeans, you know something’s up. It isn’t that Calum never talks to you, it’s just that you are the kid in the family no one knows much about. You’re the one that everyone thinks is from different parents, because no way in hell would you ever party like Calum and be able to have everyone like you the way Mali can. You don’t want to in the first place.  
“So do you have any plans from eight to twelve tonight?” He tries to sound light-hearted, but for Calum, persuading you is the most difficult he’s ever done.  
“I’m not going to a party.” You look up from the computer screen to see your older brother’s face behind it, peaking at you.  
“I didn’t say it was a party. Besides, why do you hate parties so much?” He sits up, closing the laptop lid and grabbing your attention. You try not to make eye contact, because the only thing Calum can use against you is his eyes. He manipulates them into showing too much sadness, and so do everyone else’s. Eye are always your weakness.  
“I have my reasons, Calum, and I’d rather not share them.” You end with a serious voice, standing from your bed and walking towards the door.  
“Why?” You feel a lump in your throat, the door knob twisting in your hand.  
“Because, Calum, I just do. Can we leave it at that?” He follows behind, trotting through the hallway and into the living room. You don’t want to keep talking, especially about parties. Parties are for the people who don’t feel a pinch in their stomach every time someone smiles, or when someone laughs. They are for people who can talk to other people without wanting to leave the conversation.  
“Where are you going, you said you didn’t have plans?” He raises an eyebrow, watching you struggle to slip on your flip flops.  
“I’m going to the game store and buying a new video game. Sorry I lied.” These aren’t real plans, and he knows this.  
“You’re just scared.” He’s in dangerous territory with you, unaware of how much it hurts to say this, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face and taking the shoes off.  
“Fine, I’ll go. This is the only one, though. After this you have to promise to never ask about a party again.” You point a finger at him, other hand on your hip. Calum grins and nods, bounding back to your room. “What’re you doing, Calum?”  
“We have to pick out your clothes!” You almost laugh, but the noise is swallowed by the hollowness in your stomach.  
The only reason you go along with his suggestions is to prove you aren’t scared, because you aren’t. You aren’t scared of people offering you drinks that you’ll refuse, or when they dance in packed groups and grind on each other. You aren’t scared.  
As he lays out a pair of white shorts that have been too short since last year and a black tank top with black flip flops, you feel the hole in your body getting bigger. It’s eating you from the inside out, and if you can’t stop it soon you’ll suffocate.  
“There, put that on, and then we’ll discuss make-up.” It isn’t that you hate what he does, but it’s not who you are. You’ll never be him, or Mali, or anyone else, and you wish they could accept that.  
While he lays mascara, black eyeliner, and pink lipstick on the bathroom counter you can tell the hole is swallowing everything, eating away and leaving your lungs heavy.  
It’s hard to apply the make-up because after he leaves to pick up Michael, Luke, and Ashton, your hand shakes and tears start to well up. Pinching yourself helps, and by the time he runs through the house and drags you outside, the other boys are staring.  
“Are you sure this is your sister?” Michael teases, poking your arm and evaluating your features. Your eyes look dark and bold, lips popping out for the first time in your life. After all, the make-up he grabbed is Mali’s.  
“Yes, now get in, we can’t be the last ones!” Calum is snappy, although proud of himself for getting his seventeen year old sister out of the house for a party. It’s not like you never do anything, but having persuaded you to go to this event is an achievement.  
The drive is awkward for you, the boys taking turns looking. You try to focus on the window and how many specks of dried water there is, but it’s hard when you feel three pairs of eyes on your face and the hole growing bigger every second.  
When you exit the car, Ashton trying to be funny and hold the door open for you, the breath in your lungs escapes. Already people are visible, talking over the music on the deck of the house and dancing closely.  
“Alright, let me show you the ropes, sis.” Calum takes your wrist and guides you through every room, the lump in your throat becoming over whelming. “This is the counter, where people take shots. Wanna try?” You glance at the row of drinks set out, promising yourself to never go to a party again. This is the worst you’ve felt in your life, and no one knows. You don’t want them to.  
“No. You guys can go on if you want. I’m fine.” You try to sound convincing, dropping your arm from his grip and gesturing to two girls in the corner of the room. “I’m gonna go talk to them, they go to school with me.”  
Calum’s eyes narrow, but he nods slowly.  
“Alright, if you’re looking for me I’ll be in the back.” He turns around, glancing back at you when he opens the screen door. Calum’s never been the best with you, no one has, so as you pass the two girls you don’t know and sit on the corner of the couch you know that feeling this way isn’t okay.  
Should parties make you wonder whether or not you’re a good person? Are they supposed to make you feel alone, selfish, and unable to connect to people? It isn’t just parties though, it’s school, work, everywhere. It’s the worst at parties because you’re supposed to act care free, loud, drunk, and crazy. At least at school and work no one bothers you because you’re on the quieter side.  
It isn’t the places, it’s the people. No one ever wants to talk about things you want to talk about, and you learned to let it go. No one knows when you’re nervous, or mad, or sad, or anything. They aren’t what they’re supposed to be, because aren’t you supposed to feel something around people?  
More partiers show up an hour later, your body still on the couch and curled in on itself. The gaping hole in your stomach feels smaller this way.  
No one talks to you for two hours, until you see Luke stumble through the doorway from the backyard, laughing at something someone said. It’s too late to move and hide, so you tuck your face under your arms.  
“Y/N? Are you hiding?” He sounds worried, and when you lift your head up his eyebrows are furrowed together.  
“Yeah. Don’t tell Calum.” Luke is surprised you told him the truth, especially because no one ever does.  
“I won’t, as long as you go talk to someone. Just one person, it can’t be that bad,” he doesn’t sound drunk, and when you stand from the couch and face him he doesn’t smell like alcohol.  
“Okay. How are you?” He doesn’t understand what you’re doing until you change your position, arms loosely in your front pockets and making eye contact. He’s never made eye contact with you before.  
“Good, you?” He’s going along with it because he’s doesn’t think he’s ever talked to you about anything besides their music, and right now Luke notices how pretty your eyes are.  
“Awful. My brother wanted me to go to this party, and I hate parties, “ he’s liking the way you talk, funny and honest.  
“Why?” He watches your frame shrink in on itself, shoulders slumping and head looking at your toes.  
“I’d rather not say.” You feel bad, leading him to the question like that and rejecting to answer his simple, ‘Why?’  
Luke wants to comfort you, and he can tell that the reason isn’t as simple as it seems. Instead he takes a step to the couch and sits, patting the spot next to him.  
“I’ll tell you why I think parties aren’t always fun, and maybe when the story is over you can tell me why you don’t like them.” You’ve never been bribed like this, but focusing on something other than the hole in your body sounds intriguing.  
You sit, knees against your chest and body facing him.  
“Alright, start talking, I want to hear the story,” you joke with him, giggling when he does. His mouth quirks up in a really, really cute way, and you linger a little too long on it.  
Luke notices and suddenly feels nervous around you. The two of you have never had an actual conversation before, let alone one about something you’ve never told anyone else (and maybe he’s also nervous because you’re Calum’s sister, the one no one knows much about, but is beautiful and smart, funny and kind, and interested in what he has to say.)  
He begins by telling you, “Well, first of all, I only like parties when I have someone to go with. If you’re alone it’s no fun.” You feel your lips twitch upwards at his words. He’s someone that you’ve never really spoken to before, and right now you can hardly breathe—mainly because if you do you can smell his very, very attractive minty breath.  
The story lasts longer than thirty minutes, mostly because he gets side-tracked and so do you.  
You ask him questions like, “What’s your favorite food?” and, “Do you think Europe would be exciting to live in?” Luke answers them with a smile, and for once someone isn’t boring you. He’s intriguing, smart, and he can see that you tense up whenever people walk past the two of you. He wants to ask why, but that question isn’t your favorite and he knows this.  
By eleven you’re becoming sleepy, leaning your head against the couch’s back. It’s your turn to talk now, and being half-awake isn’t the best way to handle this.  
“I don’t like parties because when I see people laughing and talking I feel bad. I don’t know how to explain it, but whenever I meet someone or talk to anyone I know it’s hopeless.” It comes out in a blur, but Luke pays attention to your words. He watches your eyebrows furrow in concentration. “I don’t care about what they’re saying, and I know they don’t care about me. Parties are bad because everyone is with their friends and having fun, but school and work suck too. I’ve never been able to enjoy talking to anyone.” You finish quickly, face tinting pink and eyes avoiding his.  
Luke doesn’t’ know what to say, so he decides to be honest.  
“I care about what you’re saying. Do you care about what I’m saying?” It’s a strange question to ask in a first conversation with someone, but you don’t mind.  
“Yes, and I know it sounds weird, because we just started talking, but I do care.” Your head is drooping, but he doesn’t want you to fall asleep. You don’t want to sleep either.  
“Will you dance with me?” He reaches out his right hand, pulling you from the seat and catching your stumbling body. You like him this close, within one foot of you.  
“I’m not going out there,” you nod your head towards the deck, and he looks over.  
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Luke intertwines your right hand with his left and places a hand on your hip, pulling you three inches closer. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, and you don’t know what to do.  
You awkwardly place a hand on his shoulder, still avoiding his eyes. Luke starts to sway back and forth, slowly getting closer to you while humming a song you don’t know.  
“Does anyone else know how you feel?” He interrupts the silence and you let out a breath.  
“No.” You’re a little more comfortable with him, and maybe leaning your head just below his shoulder is okay. Especially when the shoulder is Luke’s, and Luke is there with you, humming softly with his chin on your head.  
You don’t know how long you dance, but after a while your hands are around his neck and his around your waist, whispering with each other.  
“Wanna hang out tomorrow?” When he asks this you grin and tell him yeah, looking back at his eyes. Maybe parties wouldn’t be so bad with him around.  
“Can I kiss you?” The words leave your mouth, hoping that he’ll say yes. What if he does, though? You’ve never kissed anyone.  
“I was about to ask.” Luke leans down, a grin on his face and heart racing.  
His face is an inch away, his eyes on your mouth and hands pulling you closer. You think a kiss isn’t that tough, considering it’s only two mouths touching, but when your lips meet his and your eyes close it’s a lot different.  
First of all, your mouths aren’t warm, they’re cool and wet. You like it, though, his hands pressing against the small of your back and chests pressed together.  
Kissing is a little easier than you thought it would be, mouths moving over each other and tongues touching lightly. You always guessed that having someone else’s tongue in your mouth was a feeling it’d take time to get used to, but right now your breath is coming in short because, ‘Oh God, his mouth is the greatest thing you’ve ever touched.’  
He pulls away after a few seconds, breath softly surrounding you.  
“I think you have my gum,” he laughs, forehead against yours.  
“I think I do too. Do you want it back?” Your voice is goofy, a grin pulling at your lips.  
“Yeah, I think I do. Do you care?” Luke is still pressed against you, mouth lightly on your cheek and hands on the small of your back.  
“No,” you turn your head and nudge your nose against his, “I don’t.”  
His mouth is on yours again, gum back in his mouth in three seconds. His tongue runs across your bottom lip, your body shivering.  
You hope you’re kissing him right, but he’s just as short of breath as you are, and when Calum walks through the room and interrupts Luke is smiling.  
“What’re you guys doing? Are you drunk, Y/N? Luke, are you?” Calum stutters over his words, and your stomach drops. Will he be angry?  
“No, we aren’t.” Luke places his arm over your shoulders and pulls you into his great-smelling, wonderfully-Luke side.  
Calum is confused, but after a few minutes of staring and forehead scrunching he nods.  
“Alright, okay. So you two are… what now?” Michael and Ashton walk through, telling Calum they’re ready to leave.  
“We’re friends that are about to go on a date, if that’s okay?” Luke phrases this question one-fourth to Calum and three-fourths to you. You smile and hide your embarrassed face in his chest, nodding.  
“Alright, whatever. As long as you don’t fuck my sister on the first date.” Calum nods and eyes you suspiciously, grabbing his keys from Michael. “Have fun you two,” he’s kidding, and it makes you laugh.  
“We will, don’t worry.” You say this as Luke grabs your hand and pulls you to the door, holding it open.  
“Don’t wait up, Calum.” You hear Calum groan, but you stop worrying when Luke kisses you quickly and leads you to the sidewalk.  
“Is it alright if I walk you home?” Your house is fifteen minutes away when driving, but maybe two hours alone with him will be the best thing to happen in a long time.


End file.
